The first hours of the grace period were dedicated entirely to reconnaissance, performed by Kaelen's real body. Moving with the newly acquired, weighty grace of his Draconic heritage, he surveyed the Heart Plaza. The Citadel of Aethel was massive—easily the size of downtown Tokyo—but only a small radius around the Heart, perhaps a square kilometer, was structurally sound. The rest lay dormant, sealed off by system-enforced energy locks.
He activated the Aetherial Console's most invaluable function: the [Aethel Strategic Map & Contamination Layer].
The 3D map rendering pulsed, showing the Citadel divided into distinct sectors. The plaza was Sector 0 (Sanctum). The adjacent districts—a former barracks, a maintenance hangar, and a ruined armory—were visible but marked with an orange glow, denoting low-level residual defenses: corrupted automata and Miasma elementals.
[AETHEL CONTAMINATION ANALYSIS]:
Current Contamination Level: 32% (Primarily residual defense constructs and Miasma seepage.)
Inaccessible Area: 85% (Locked by Protocol Seals Lvl 1-10.)
Required Purge Method: Continuous flow of purified Heart Essence + Physical elimination of residual constructs.
Time Remaining on Protection Protocol: 68 Hours.
"The core challenge is simultaneous processing," Kaelen analyzed, pacing the cold obsidian floor. "I need to eliminate the hostiles for the EXP and Purge Essence, while I need to manually channel Heart energy to unlock the seals. I cannot be everywhere, and I cannot risk leaving this place, as the $10\times$ boost is my life support."
The solution, which aligned perfectly with his intensely introverted nature, was already coded into his bloodline. He needed proxies—extensions of his will that could operate in the dangerous limelight.
He focused his concentration entirely on the City Heart, drawing deep on the vast, ambient pool of Negative Energy his Draconic bloodline fed upon. The process of fueling his first major skill was brutal; the five bloodlines warred violently. The Vampire thirsted, the Dragon burned, and the Dracolich screamed for stillness. He used the $10\times$ Heart boost to stabilize the energy flow, forcing the raw power into a single, cohesive form.
He initiated [Shadow Synthesis: Clone Creation (F-Rank)].
The energy ripped out of him, leaving him momentarily weak and dizzy. He watched as two forms of liquid shadow detached from his own dark aura and materialized a few feet away. They were smaller than him, built of pure Miasma and Shadow Essence, featureless save for the faintest shimmer of violet in their eyes. They were utterly expendable.
[UNIT CREATED]: Shadow Clone Alpha.
Designation: Vanguard/Harvester.
Initial Stats: F-Rank Combat, F-Rank Stealth.
Directive: Direct elimination of contaminated constructs.
[UNIT CREATED]: Shadow Clone Beta.
Designation: Support/Infiltrator.
Initial Stats: F-Rank Analysis, F-Rank Repair.
Directive: Cleanup, resource analysis, minor field repairs, and communication management.
Kaelen established the neural link. The clones were not separate individuals; they were terminals connected to his central processor. He could feel their every sensor input, their cold, focused determination.
"Alpha, Beta. Focus on Sector 1, the Barracks. Eliminate all constructs and prioritize harvesting any Golem Shards. I will monitor and provide the strategic overlays," Kaelen transmitted mentally. "If you encounter any other Player, do not engage. Retreat immediately. Your job is efficiency, not glory."
Alpha, silent and swift, melted into the deep shadows near the entrance to the barracks sector. Beta, with a slight tilt of its head, accessed a dormant, rusted tactical terminal on the plaza perimeter, its shadowy hands immediately analyzing the system's energy signature.
With the clones deployed, Kaelen shifted his focus entirely to the City Heart. He placed his newly scaled hands on the pulsating crystal. This was his true work: building his Sanctum. He began to physically reshape the obsidian floor, channeling the Undead Dracolich affinity for ancient, dark structures. The raw stone bent to his will, forming protective walls inscribed with deep Vampiric Runes designed to passively siphon residual energy from the city's decay.
The plaza floor was rapidly becoming a stylized, geometric altar—his personal command center, designed only for one. The Citadel of Aethel was beginning to take the shape of the introverted, terrifying Lord who now held its heart.
Kaelen (Internal Monologue): "They can have the spotlight and the messy ground conflicts. I will sit in the sky, analyze their weaknesses, and feed the city. This is the optimal build for maximum growth and minimal social interaction."
He was utterly alone, miles above the world, surrounded by complex data and cold, rising power. It was exactly how he preferred to play.